Feathers & Claws
by Mystical Jellybeans
Summary: "So you're telling me that the movie Birds is real. You're telling me that Birds is real and that we're standing smack in the middle of it?" - When the boys went out on a hunt, they weren't expecting to find themselves surrounded by dozens of crows.


**A/N:** This started out as a bit of a crackfic, but it somehow gained a life of its own and became more serious towards the middle/end.

For the 31 Days of Halloween prompt challenge shared with me by gwevyan.

**Feathers & Claws**

Working with what they worked, it figured that eventually Sam and Dean would stop being so surprised by what they found out existed - the tooth fairy, angels, etc - but it seemed like just when they thought they'd seen everything, something new and bizarre was thrown their way. Or, in this case, flew their way.

"So you're telling me that the movie Birds is real. You're telling me that Birds is real and that we're standing smack in the middle of it?" Dean asked, his tone showing a little more fear than he would have liked, but damn it, when your brother tells you you're in the middle of Birds, you get a free pass on that.

The worst part was that instead of correcting him on some technicality, Sam only nodded, his face somber and showing every bit of thinking Dean knew he was doing at that moment. And he'd better be, because this was all his idea - coming that way, looking into those weird bird occurrences, everything -, and if they ended up eaten by birds, Dean would haunt his ass no matter whether they were both dead or not. This just couldn't be how it ended for them, it was too ridiculous and too horrible at the same time. There was nothing heroic about being eaten by birds, but still, it sounded slow and painful, a terrible combination.

One more crow joined the crowd, and soon came another one, bringing a friend in tow. The power lines were starting to fill up. Dean took a step back, growing more and more concerned by the second. "Sammy, any time now." He pressed, giving his little brother a bit of a desperate look.

"I'm thinking, Dean!" Was the only answer he got, aside from something that he could almost recognize as one of Sam's famous bitchfaces, but much too marred by fear, concentration and concern to be truly distinguishable. "In the movie, what did they do? How did they get rid of the birds?" Sam asked, throwing his brother a hopeful look.

It soon disappeared when Dean's expression only became more somber. "They didn't. The movie ends with them leaving, and they're still surrounded by birds." Damn, how he wished he could get that movie out of his head. "Sam, next time I say 'let's lay low this Halloween', we're laying low."

"You're the one who told me to get off my ass and stop sulking around the bunker." Sam retorted, giving his brother an irritated glare, which soon turned into a wince as another bird joined its friends. "You know how I feel about Halloween."

Another bird. Damn it, that wasn't a good time to have a heart-to-heart, but Dean knew that when his brother got started, he didn't let go easily. Great. He was going to die while having a deep, meaningful conversation with his brother, a conversation that he didn't even want to have in the first place. Awesome. "I meant go to a bar, hell, even a library if it meant you weren't moping anymore. But I don't know if you noticed, Sammy, now is not a good time."

Sam opened his mouth to retort, but he closed it again, and Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Good, his little brother had some common sense after all. His relief, however, was short lived, for soon several more birds joined the flock. God, they were looking at him. They were watching him with those creepy little eyes, just waiting for the right moment to strike, probably just a couple of seconds before his heart finally gave out in anxiety. How could this be about just as bad, or perhaps a little better, if much, than being tied to a chair with some kind of monster or psycho hovering over him, spouting off threats that Dean knew they would follow through? His muscles were tense in waiting, heart rate slightly elevated, breathing a little faster than usual - he was on full alert.

"Dean." Sam called, anxious eyes turning to meet him. "What do we do?"

And that was all it took to get Dean to stop waiting for his little brother and that ginourmous brain of his to magically come up with some lore on creepy birds and take it upon himself to get them out alive. Sam was scared, and he needed his big brother. Dean wasn't about to disappoint him. "Same thing we did with the creepy-crawlies back in Oklahoma. We take cover." And hope for the best, Dean added mentally, but didn't say anything. With the history his brother had with Halloween, he was probably already imagining that the worst would happen. Dean wasn't going to fuel that fire.

A glance. A nod. Some eyebrow movement. Another nod. They'd reached an agreement. "Now!" Dean announced, and within a second, the two brother were running towards the nearest house, jumping in through a cracked window, and running down to the basement, trying to ignore the sound of dozens of wings fluttering at the same time.

The door slammed shut, and a thud told them that it'd successfully halted the birds' pursuit. For now. If the movie was any indication, there wasn't much that would truly stop those stubborn animals. "Town evacuated because of bird problems. Problems. That's a freakin' understatement! I swear, once we make it out of here, we're going on vacations somewhere far, far away from birds." And then, after a beat. "Oh, god. Baby, she's out there with the birds!"

That earned Dean yet another bitchface from his brother. "Seriously, Dean? We're trapped in here with this door as the only thing separating us from crazy carnivorous birds and you're worried about the Impala?"

"I just fixed her up after the thing with the Calydonian boar!" Dean complained, groaning in frustration. That wasn't, however, a good enough reason for Sam, who just rolled his eyes and slumped against the wall, clearly having no intention of arguing with his brother about his attachment to the car yet again.

Silence fell upon them, and they each concentrated on doing one thing, Dean nervously loading and unloading his gun, pacing around, testing the sturdiness of the door and trying to find another way of the basement; and Sam going through the notes and newspaper clippings he'd had on his pocket when they first noticed the birds gathering around them. There was an elephant in the room, both boys knew it, but they were expertly avoiding it.

"Dean, you know there's only one way out of this room, right?" Came Sam's sullen voice, finally breaking the deafening silence that overshadowed the regular thump of something smacking against the solid wooden door.

It took Dean a second to reply, but it felt like an eternity had passed between the time he heard his brother's question and the time he managed to get his vocal cords to react. That was it. Voicing his agreement meant coming closer to accepting the inevitable truth that if they were getting out of that basement, it was through the bird-guarded door. "Yeah." Dean finally answered.

"There's hundreds of them by now. How do we…" Sam, however, never got to finish the sentence, for Dean was quick to interrupt.

"I'll fight as many of them as I can, you just run. I left the key in the ignition, you can start her up, keep the engine warm 'till I get there." The 'if' was implied, but Dean hoped his brother would ignore it, not make a big deal of the fact that he wanted to make sure that Sam would get out of this in one piece.

Of course, Sam didn't oblige. "Dean, you'll never make it, not by yourself." His little brother pointed out, his tone clearly showing that he already knew that Dean knew that.

"Ah, come on, Sammy! It'll take more than a few big-ass crows to take me down!" Although his tone was light-hearted, more suited for a conversation in bar than for a discussion about how to make it out of a bird siege, Dean was lying through his teeth, and there was a hint of worry behind his eyes that only Sam would be able to spot. Unfortunately, it was Sam who he was trying to fool.

The look - yet another bitchface - his brother gave him told him everything he needed to know. Sam didn't buy it, and he was now positively annoyed at his thick-headed older brother, which meant he had his own stubbornness turned on to maximum. "It's not a few, Dean." His tone confirmed it, too. "And you're not fighting them alone. We're getting through this together. Just like we do with everything else. I'm not letting you get yourself eaten by birds."

There was a determination in Sam's voice that told Dean that it was pointless to argue. Like it or not, Sam wasn't letting him do this alone. "Yeah, alright." He reluctantly relented. "But Sammy, I'm not letting you get eaten by birds, either."

"Then we'd better make it through." Sam's words were lost in the sea of thousands of feathers and wings, claws and beaks.

But Dean heard him, and he knew that either they'd both make it, or they'd both die trying, because there simply wasn't another option.


End file.
